Matt Murdock: Last time we spoke, I confronted Father Lantom. I was angry. I'd change that if I could.
Sister Maggie: If God allowed that, there'd be no future. Just people endlessly rewriting the past.
Matt Murdock: Yeah. I think he was trying to tell me that for a long time. His last words were, "Forgive us."
Sister Maggie: Do you think that's possible?
Matt Murdock: He told me something, years ago, when this happened, that I never forgot. See, I was pretty angry at God and bitter towards his world. How could a loving God blind me? Why? Anyway, he told me... God's plan is like a beautiful tapestry. And the tragedy of being human is that we only get to see it from the back. With all the ragged threads and the muddy colors. And we only get a hint at the true beauty that would be revealed if we could see the whole pattern on the other side... as God does. Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about it recently, 'cause... I realize I've made some bad choices and hurt people that I love without meaning to.
Sister Maggie: You don't always know when you start down a false path.
Matt Murdock: No, you don't. And that's my point. I realize that if my life had turned out any differently, that I would never have become Daredevil. And although people have died on my watch, people who shouldn't have, there are countless others that have lived. So, maybe it is all part of God's plan. Maybe my life has been exactly as it had to be.
Sister Maggie: You have a generous heart, Matthew. To see the good in so much pain.
Matt Murdock: Not always. In fact, Father Lantom used to help me with that. Help me see the errors of my ways. I could use someone else to help me with that now... once in a while.
Sister Maggie: I'm a nun, Matthew. Helping is what I was called to do.
Matt Murdock: I listened to you. I listened to you, and they almost died. God damn it. I'm such an idiot.
Sister Maggie: No. I'm the idiot. I told you to involve your friends, and I made things worse. I'm used to putting on a brave face when people bring their troubles to the church. And I find that they don't just bring their troubles, they bring their answers, too, if you let them talk enough. But... what you're dealing with is so far beyond my experience that... Well... all I can hope to do is help keep your wounds stitched and your head clear, so you can be safe. And I'll be more careful about giving advice to the Devil. And, occasionally, possibly, I'll try to keep my mouth shut.
Matt Murdock: Could I get that in writing?
Sister Maggie: Hallelujah. So you can dress like a normal human being. Well, it warms my heart to see you going out to do something other than beat someone up.
Matt Murdock: How do you know? Could just be adding style to my beatings.
Sister Maggie: Did you... Did you just make a joke? You look ready to smile, which I'm sure in your case means... Well, I don't know what that could mean, as I've never actually seen one. This have something to do with the blond who came to visit me today?
Matt Murdock: The Book of Job. The story of God's perfect servant, Job. He prayed every day at dawn, with his knees on the ground, his face in the dirt. Slaughtered ten goats, one for each of his children, and burned them at the altar in God's honor. Of all of God's soldiers, Job, he was the most loyal.
Sister Maggie: I know the story, Matthew.
Matt Murdock: Oh. Then you know what happens next. God murdered all ten of his children in cold blood. Scorched every inch of Job's land. Lashed at his body till his skin was covered in bloody welts. God rained sh*t and misery on the life of his most perfect servant. And still... Job would not curse him. You know what I realized? Job was a pu**y. You see, that was me, Sister. I suffered willingly. I gave my, uh... sweat and blood and skin without complaint. Because I too believed I was God's soldier. Well, not anymore. I am what I do in the dark now. I bleed only for myself.
Sister Maggie: Angry, sarcastic... and stubborn. Maybe you don't have any friends.
Matt Murdock: Someone once told me that warriors were meant to be alone. That caring for people would make me weak.
Sister Maggie: Sounds like he needed to get laid.
Matt Murdock: Ha! That actually explains a lot. I mean, he was right, of course. I let people in, I pay the price. I won't make that mistake again.
Foggy Nelson: Matt's dead. That's the first time I've said that out loud. I don't want to accept it, either. Especially since I'm the one who... you know... brought him the Devil suit.
Karen Page: No. Hey, don't... do that to yourself. You know that was his choice. He'd have gotten to that suit whether you brought it to him or not.
Foggy Nelson: I know. But it doesn't stop me from wishing I'd brought him some sweatpants instead.
Sister Maggie: The things I've heard you can do... You are blind, right? You weren't just faking it the whole time?
Matt Murdock: Congratulations. You finally caught me.
Sister Maggie: It's not a fair question?
Matt Murdock: Yeah, the accident blinded me. It just also, uh, sharpened my other senses...
Sister Maggie: I guess I shouldn't be surprised by any of this. You were always pissed off. Of course, back then, you were just a boy who lost his eyesight. And now, you're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Matt Murdock: You've heard of me.
Sister Maggie: I live in an orphanage, not under a rock. I just never imagined it'd be one of ours running around in that Halloween costume.